


Hunters

by Hinn_Raven



Series: The Hunters Verse [1]
Category: Young Justice, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Family, Character Death, F/M, Family, Gen, Jade as the Greatest Mother Figure of All Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:53:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lawrence fell instead of Paula. Fearing Batman and the Shadows, Paula took her daughters and fled, changing everything.</p><p>[Abandoned, sorry]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_"Stay away from them," a voice hissed, and suddenly Kid Flash was aware of a figure stepping out of the shadows._

_"Who the hell are you?" He shot in response, looking at the "them" in question—a boy in a mask and cape, younger than Robin; a tiny Asian girl with a domino mask and a baby in a sling over her back, dozing peacefully; a girl in a purple cape and hood; a girl with white hair and a sword; and a boy in a black jumpsuit that looked far too expensive to belong to him._

_"Artemis," the girl said, stepping out into the light. She wore a skin-tight black suit and a cowl with white lenses for eyes. Her hair was short and blonde, held back by a silver hair band, and her mouth was scowling as she aimed an arrow at him. "You?"_

_"Kid Flash, never heard of you," he shot back. The kids shifted, exchanging looks._

_"We're not so careless as that," a voice whispered in his ear, and Wally jumped and let out an undignified yelp. The kids giggled._

_Behind him was a girl in a green kimono, with wild black hair and a mask with a massive smile._

_"Cheshire," Robin called, dropping down. "What are you guys doing here?"_

_"This is our gig," Artemis said, lowering her weapon somewhat, although she kept it out._

_"Your gig?" Wally scoffed. "You and a bunch of kids?"_

_Robin winced, as though he had said something tactless again._

_Cheshire, if that was mask-girl's name, grabbed him and pulled him close to her face. "We have been hunting the Shadows long before you, Kid. Shut up and stay out of our way, and maybe you won't get hurt." She released him and shoved him away. He stumbled before regaining his balance, trying to decide which of the girls he should glare at._

_"This is our hunt," Artemis added. "The Shadows are our business, not the Leagues, and certainly not your precious Team's."_

_"Who are you guys?" Kid Flash demanded, eyes narrow._

_"We're the Hunters," Cheshire said._

_Kid Flash's eyebrow rose. "And here I was, thinking you guys were a myth."_

_"Don't the badguys wish," the boy with a cape laughed, exchanging a fist bump with Jump-Suit._

_"Hush," Domino-Mask said. "Wake Daymie."_

_"Sorry Cass," Cape-Kid looked ashamed._

_"We'll keep it down," Purple Hood said, placing a gloved hand on 'Daymie's' head. "Right boys?"_

_"You guys brought a baby along?" Robin asked Cheshire._

_"Can't leave him behind in the hotel," Cheshire said with a shrug._

_"Couldn't someone have stayed behind?" Wally asked, slightly incredulous._

_Wally was suddenly on the receiving end of five withering glares._

_"Don't be stupid," Swordette said reproachfully._

_"It takes all of us to handle him," Cape-Kid said. "One wouldn't be enough."_

* * *

_Six Years Earlier_

"Jade!" Paula Crock yelled, throwing open the door into their apartment, still in full costume. "Artemis!"

"Mom?" The two girls looked up from their dinners, eyes wide. "I thought you said you had a job tonight—" Jade began, looking confused.

"Grab what you need girls," Paula cut them off. "I'm sorry, but your father's been caught by the police. Batman might be here any minute now, and we need to be gone."

"Why would Batman come for you?" Artemis said, scrambling. "He's never found you before?"

"Because I was unmasked during the fight," Paula said, wrenching open a cupboard, revealing a safe. "Jade, get the weapons. Artemis, clothes for both of you. Both of you, any valuables you have."

"Yes Mom," they chorused, running; Jade to the weapons closet, Artemis for their bedroom.

"Pack light!" She called, grabbing the fistful of travel documents and fake IDs from the safe, along with a large amount of cash.

"All the weapons, Mom?" Jade yelled.

"Leave your father's," Paula responded, heading for her room. "None of us use baseball bats. But make sure you get your shrikes, and Artemis's bow."

Paula shed her Huntress outfit, dumping it on the floor unceremoniously. Batman had probably placed tracers on it, and she couldn't risk bringing it. She grabbed an ordinary change of clothes, and quickly put them on. Three more outfits went into a duffle bag that was always kept under the bed, followed by the documents and the cash. She grabbed her wedding photograph, along with the ones of Artemis and Jade as children, and placed them in the bag as well. Her jewelry case followed.

Now she had to hurry. Batman would be on his way, and maybe even the police.

She grabbed an envelope, and inside it shoved a key to a train station locker, and a piece of paper with coordinates to one of Lawrence's safe-houses in it. The locker contained some of Lawrence's spare things, and it would make it seem like she had expected him to escape custody and then meet her at the safe-house.

She opened the door to her bedside table, lifted the false bottom, and deposited it there. It wouldn't take Batman long to find it, and it would buy her time. They would think she ran for one of the safe-houses. Their next guess would probably be back to the Shadows.

Paula's mouth twisted into a scowl. If they thought they would bring her girls to Ra's al Ghul, and into the Life, they were sadly mistaken. If it hadn't been for the enemies she had made, she would never have even allowed Crusher to train them. But she would  _not_  see her girls be like her.

It was time to leave the Life.

Paula left her room, pausing only to grab the battered copy of  _Alice in Wonderland_  from her bedside table for her girls.

Her daughters were waiting for her, eyes wide and scared. Their bags were slung over their shoulders, and Artemis clung to her teddy-bear tightly.

"Where are we going?" Artemis asked.

"I don't know," Paula answered honestly. "But remember girls; in this family, we stick together, no matter what."

Then they left the apartment.


	2. Leaving Gotham

Gotham’s main bus station was always crowded, even at one o’clock in the morning. Paula gripped Jade’s hand firmly as the three of them wove their way through the crowd towards a relatively empty corner, where they could talk.

 

As much as Paula would have loved to buy tickets to Metropolis and board a bus with her girls, it wasn’t that simple. Undercover police officers ran the ticket stands, and there were security cameras everywhere. Further security cameras on the bus, and the added fact that the three of them made a rather easy group to spot made it virtually impossible for the three of them to leave together.

 

Artemis and Jade had to get out of Gotham. Once they were, Paula would be able to roam free. She’d lose Batman, and then meet up with them.

 

Paula knelt in front of her girls, reaching into her duffle bag.

 

“What’s the plan?” Jade said, looking at her.

 

“You two need to get out of here,” Paula said.

 

“What?” Artemis squeaked, clutching Jade’s arm like it was a lifeline. “But you said—”

 

“I know what I said,” Paula said flatly, making eye contact with Artemis. “But if I go with you, Batman will find me.”

 

The two girls exchanged looks.

 

“This is short term, I promise,” Paula said, pressing a plastic-bag full of cash and documents into Jade’s hand. “You two are Jade and Artemis _Nguyen_. You’re on your way to Metropolis to meet up with your mother, Lian.” Artemis’s lips quirked upward at the name. “Find a motel, and lie low. I’ll meet you in two days at noon, outside the Daily Planet building.”

 

“How do we know if it’s the Daily Planet?” Jade asked, dropping the plastic bag into her own duffle.

 

“It has a globe on its roof,” Paula said. “Find a motel in Suicide Slum. They shouldn’t ask too many questions.”

 

“So it’s like Crime Alley,” Artemis said, looking less nervous now.

 

“Exactly,” Paula said.

 

“And if you don’t come?” Jade demanded, looking right at her. “If Batman catches you?”

 

Paula swallowed, and pushed a strand of Jade’s always messy hair behind her ear. “Wait for three more days. If I’m not there by then, go to the training house in Blüdhaven, and call Talia. She’ll look after you…” _If I can’t_.

 

Jade nodded.

 

“Be careful,” Paula said, kissing Jade’s forehead. “Both of you. Jade, you’ve got to protect Artemis. Artemis, watch her back. And whatever you do _stick together_.”

 

“Yes Mom,” they chorused.

 

“Stay out of trouble, stick together, and _don’t_ go looking for Superman,” Paula said, hugging her girls. “I’ll see you in two days.”

 

“Love you Mom,” Jade whispered.

 

“Yeah, love you,” Artemis agreed.

 

“I love you both,” Paula said, before she faded into the night.

 

“I’m going to learn to do that,” Jade decided, once she realized their mother was gone.

 

“ _Please_ ,” Artemis said, relaxing her grip somewhat on Jade’s arm. “Mom said it took her _years_ to look that trick.”

 

“I’ll learn it,” Jade said, dragging Artemis towards the ticket booth. “And then _no one_ will be able to beat me.”

 

Artemis laughed. “We stick together, right?” She asked, hand intertwined with Jade’s.

 

Jade laughed. “C’mon sis. We just told Mom that.”

 

“Promise?” Artemis demanded, looking up at her sister’s face.

 

Jade looked at her baby sister, and smirked. “Promise.”

 

* * *

 

 

The bar that Paula walked into was in the seediest side of Gotham. Cigarette smoke filled the air, but the scent of alcohol overpowered it easily.

 

The bar was lined with patrons, the majority of them recognizable to a halfway competent police officer (all six of them anyways) as criminals with impressive rap-sheets.

 

Paula looked stunning in her black dress. Tiger-eyes gleamed in her ears and around her neck and makeup emphasized her features. To a casual observer, she appeared unarmed. She nodded at the bartender, who clearly recognized her, and walked into the back room, which was separated from the rest of the bar by a simple bead curtain.

 

In it there were several men and a few women. The Riddler was recognizable in his green suit, shuffling card while muttering under his breath. Two-Face lingered in a corner; too occupied by a conversation he was having with one of his men to notice her. Paula was grateful. She did not need to deal with Harvey Dent and his myriad of issues tonight of all nights.

 

Her eyes landed on the very person she needed to see.

 

“Huntress!” Poison Ivy lounged in the corner opposite Two-Face, a glass of amber liquid in her hand. She smiled, getting to her feet. “I heard that Batman caught you.”

 

“Not quite,” Paula said. Ivy’s eyes traveled to Paula’s throat, where finger shaped bruises were faintly visible under the layers of carefully applied makeup.

 

“Good for you,” Ivy said, her smile cold. “Sit down, sit down.”

 

“Thank you,” Paula said, doing as she was bid. “They got Sportsmaster. They know where I am.”

 

Ivy frowned, her elegant fingernails tapping on the heavy wood of the table. “No loyalty between you two?”

 

“Loyalty is bought and sold with him,” Paula said truthfully. “They’ll offer him a deal. A few decades off his sentence, in return for me,” Paula shrugged.

 

Ivy sighed. “And _then_ , they’ll offer you a deal for your employers.” She shook her head.

 

“The new DA’s no Harvey Dent,” Paula said with an ironic smile, “But he’s still _very_ good at cutting deals with the ones that Gordon catches.”

 

“One day someone’s going to get Gordon…” Ivy said wistfully, swirling the liquid in her glass. “I just hope I get to see the look on his face as he dies.” She refocused, leaning in towards Paula. “But enough chit-chat. What do _you_ need, Huntress?”

 

Paula leaned in as well. “I need you to distract Batman. I need to get out of town and we both know he’ll be watching every exit.”

 

Ivy’s smile grew. “And the payment?”

 

Paula reached into her bag, and pulled out a small plastic bag with three seeds. “From Vietnam.”

 

Ivy’s eyes lit up, and she took the plastic bag. “I think this will do nicely.” She got to her feet. “Give me two hours.”

 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Paula said, exiting the bar slightly faster than was strictly necessary.

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours later, she boarded a train to Blüdhaven. Her hair was now short and spiky, sticking up in all directions with the ends dyed bright blue. Another layer of makeup and cheap skinny jeans, a colorful t-shirt and sneakers added to the effect of a woman ten years younger than she really was.

 

Paula wasn’t stupid enough to think that hiring Ivy as a distraction would be enough to through Batman off her tail. It would take much longer to lose him, and a lot more effort.

 

Her eyes scanned the rooftops and corners, looking for Batman—or a Shadow agent. She saw nothing out of place; which was hardly reassuring. Paula might be the Shadow’s forefront tracker, but that did not mean that she couldn’t be fooled.

 

The train was dirty and gratified, smelling of smoke and smog. The people around her were either in various states of stoned or drunk, or up to something.

 

Well, Paula thought with a wry smile, at least she fit in. The man next to her had a gun in his waistband, a knife in his pocket, and he stunk of marijuana. Paula reached into her bag, fingering the blades of her swords to reassure herself, before pulling out a battered iPod. She placed the ear-buds in her ears and pretended to turn it on, knowing that it would immediately discount her as a threat to anyone.

Paula scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces, and was gratified when she found not a single one.

 

* * *

 

 

Lawrence “Crusher” Crock sat in the police holding cell, experimenting with the cuffs on his wrists. Never anything too obvious, just the occasional twist.

 

His legs ached where the wire had pulled on it, and his whole body was bruised from the fall, but he was alive, thanks to Paula. A small smile traced his features. She’d get him out of here soon enough. He had faith in the Shadows… and he knew enough about Ra’s al Ghul’s Light project that he was too valuable a player to be lost in the system just yet.

 

He tapped his fingers on the table, being sure to tap out insults about the police department in Morse Code, just to screw with anyone who would be watching the security tapes.

 

“Mr. Crock.” The door swung open, and a tall, wide, and very familiar blonde man walked in. He wore a suit, overcoat and gloves, and carried a very large briefcase. “I’m James Matson, from the DA’s office. I’m here to discuss your case.”

 

Crusher looked up, a slow, cruel smile crossing his face. “You are?”

 

“Indeed,” the man said, opening a briefcase and then turning it around to face Crusher. “Shall we discuss our strategy?”

 

Inside the briefcase gleamed two AK-47s, along with several small pistols and explosive devices.

 

“Well, why not?” Crusher said, flexing his hands and twisting them. “I think I’ll plead…” The handcuffs fell to the floor with a clatter. He grabbed one of the guns with a manic grin. Alarms went off in the distance. “Not guilty by virtue of not being here!”

 

Matson grinned, pulling off his gloves, revealing a mechanical hook that expanded in place of his right hand. “C’mon then!” With his left hand, Matson scooped up the other gun. Crusher grabbed the briefcase.

 

Matson’s hook broke down the heavy metal door, and the two of them burst into the hallway, guns blazing.

“Gotta say!” Crusher yelled, firing off a series of shots with his usual expert precision. Three cops went down, and his grin turned manic. “Surprised it was _you_ who broke me out! Thought Paula’d beat you to it!”

 

Matson slashed open the doors to a holding cell, and tossed in two guns to the inmates inside. He turned to Crusher, a slightly surprised look on his face. “You didn’t hear?”

 

“What?” Crusher said, ducking behind a wall to avoid some return fire. He lobbed a smoke grenade towards the policemen, smirking. “Did they get her too?”

 

“She ran, Crusher,” Matson said, setting a charge on the nearest wall. “She grabbed your girls and ran.”

 

Crusher felt a stab of shock. “She did, huh?” Typical. Paula always _had_ been soft. “I take it the bounty’s out?”

 

“’course,” Matson said. “And the Master himself wants a word with you.”

 

Crusher growled. The girls were _payment_. His as well as Paula’s. Ra’s al Ghul would _not_ be happy with her disappearance. And he’d probably take it out on Crusher.

 

Crusher’s fingers twitched for his gun. He knew what he’d have to do to make it back to the Shadow’s good books. It would be distasteful, true, but he’d do it.

 

It was time to hunt the Huntress.

 

The wall exploded behind them, and the two loyal Shadows left the police station, leaving a bloody trail behind them.

 

* * *

 

 

Jade sat on the bed, flipping through the channels. Artemis sat next to her, reading the battered copy of _Alice in Wonderland_ while clutching the teddy bear.

 

Jade stopped at an old show, _Hello something or other_ , trying to focus on the stupid plot.

 

“Mom’s coming soon, right?” Artemis said without looking up.

 

“Very soon,” Jade said, eying the clock.

 

Artemis grinned, setting down the book. “D’yah wanna watch something?”

 

“I already am,” Jade said, gesturing to the screen, where the red haired girl was cuing a laugh track by hitting her head.

 

“Something _good_?” Artemis pleaded, clambering onto her older sister’s lap.

 

“Fine,” Jade sighed. “What do you have in mind?”

 

* * *

 

 

Paula pushed open the door to the motel room. She’d arrived early. Her shoulder ached from where the batarang had struck her, but otherwise she was in perfect condition. They’d have to leave the next morning, head out of the country, but for now, things were good.

 

The motel room the girls had chosen was awful, Paula noted with distaste. The carpet was faded and stained with nicotine smoke. The wallpaper was peeling, although it was a mild improvement to the original pattern of ugly flowers on a moldy green background. The ceiling was low, with cracks that ran almost completely through the middle. But there were her girls, safe and sound. The room had been successful in that at least.

 

Her hair was its natural black once again, although it was still short. Ungelled, it fell just past her ears, making her feel young again. She wore her favorite yellow blouse with a green vine pattern on it, and her shoes were silent as she crept into the room.

 

Her daughters lay on top of the covers in the only bed in the room. The TV was on, playing _Toy Story_. Paula smiled, remembering when she’d taken Jade to see that when it was in theaters. She switched it off.

 

Paula moved over to the bed. The teddy bear was squashed in between them, the discared copy of _Alice in Wonderland_ lay on the floor. She picked up the book, setting it on the nightstand. Carefully, she drew back the ugly green covers of the bed, and slipped in, making sure that her daughters were covered by the blankets.

She wrapped her arms around her daughters and closed her eyes.


	3. The End of Times

Paula brushed Jade´s hair, humming softly as she did so. "I cannot believe you are already fourteen," she said softly, deft fingers twisting her daughter's hair into an elaborate braid.

"Mom," Jade rolled her eyes in the mirror. "My birthday was last week. You don't need to keep saying that."

Paula smiled at her daughter. "I'm a mother. It's my job."

Artemis let out a laugh from her position on the bed. Artemis's hair had already been braided, although she hadn't wanted to go through the entire ritual, so hers was much more simplistic--a basic French braid instead of the more elaborate Dutch braid that Jade prefered. "What did you do when you were Jade's age, Mom?" Her ten year old rolled onto her stomach, keen grey eyes alight with curiosity.

"I was with the Shadows by then," Paula said evenly. "I was serving under Talia al Ghul." She didn't pause as she twisted a ribbon around the end of Jade's hair, completing her master piece. "Now, whose turn is it to braid my hair?"

" _Mine_!" Artemis scrambled off the bed, her smile lighting up the room. She scooped up Paula's carved wooden box which held all of their hair supplies and held it up eagerly.

The box was made out of dark colored wood, with a carefully carved latch and a pattern of vines etched into the lid. It was slightly banged up and discolored because of Paula’s travels, but it was still sturdy and intact. Once it had held Paula’s few precious keepsakes, when she had been thirteen and it had been given to her. It was one of the few things that she possessed (the others being weapons and scars) that had survived from that time.

"You did it last time," Jade grumbled, glaring at her younger sister.

"Did _not_!" Artemis protested, making her eyes wide and innocent.

"Oh yes you _did_!" Jade's argument was mostly for its own sake. Jade referred to braid Artemis's hair; her younger sister had always been her favorite canvas for creativity when she was younger, and that had not changed with age. Paula smiled to herself.

She knelt on the floor, and Artemis's small hands immediately went into her hair, dragging her fingers through the thick black locks, removing knots and separating them into strands.

Artemis was very good at doing hair. With a family full of hair as thick and long as the Nguyens, it was only to be expected that she could tame the wildest of manes. Artemis expertly sectioned off Paula's hair into tiny little strands, which she tied down with colorful ribbons, beads, and elastics.

"New style, Sis?" Jade drawled, bored. Jade had taken Artemis's position on the bed, her heels resting on the wall, just beneath the framed watercolor painting.

The rooms they were staying in were rented, and very cheap. The walls were plain white-wash, and even that was starting to peal. The ceiling had damp spots on it, and it leaked under heavy rain. The floor was cheap linoleum, scratched and almost destroyed. The furniture was dented, peeling and creaky, the chairs often unusable, and the bed had insects. But her daughters had been raised in the East End of Gotham, and Paula had never slept in a bed until she was thirteen. They would make do.

"I saw a lady in the marketplace with her hair like this," Artemis said, beginning to braid the various decorated strands of Paula's hair.

"It's very pretty," Paula said, smiling at her daughters, meeting Artemis's eyes in the old, cracked mirror.

Leaving the United States had been a wise decision. Brazil was cosmopolitan enough that they could hide, and it was certainly helping her daughters hone their language skills. Already, both of the girls were fluent in Spanish and Portuguese, and were even starting to pick up a smattering of other languages from their friends.

They stayed in big cities, where they were less likely to be noticed. They lived cheaply, with Paula doing labor work as she went, avoiding withdrawing from her accounts as much as possible. Using them could draw the wrong attention--either the Bat or the Shadows. She taught her children at home, telling them history and finding books for them to read. She taught them to defend themselves with any and everything they could get their hands on, as well as weapons training. Jade fought with her sais, although she did like fighting with her sword as well. Sadly, Paula had been unable to foster her love of hook-swords on her daughter; Jade prefered a katana. Lawrence had succeeded with Artemis; her daughter was in love with her archery. Paula taught Artemis how to make new arrows, and made sure her daughter could fight with Paula's crossbow as well as Artemis's own compound bow.

"Why do we keep our hair long?" Jade asked, rolling onto her side. "Isn't that a disadvantage?"

"Not if you use it well," Paula said. "When I was younger, I braided spikes into my hair so any fool who grabbed it would be injured. Talia uses poisoned knobs to keep it out of her face. And besides," Paula smiled at her daughters, "Always remember that people are fools. If you smile and act sweet and innocent, if you look young or beautiful, they will dismiss you, never thinking of you as a threat. Your looks are a weapon, Jade. A man may fight until his heart gives out, but he will stumble at the right words, whispered in his ear at an opportune moment. People will dismiss you for your gender, and you will have to work a thousand times over to prove you are just as strong as a man. But if you twist it to your advantage..." She trailed off, seeing the smirks in her daughters' faces.

"People are stupid," Artemis said, completing the braid.

"Yes they are," Paula agreed, remembering Lawrence's face the first time she beat him in a fight. "Let them underestimate you, girls. Respect can come after survival."

* * *

Paula held out her hook swords enticingly, leaving herself open to attack.

Jade circled her mother, her sais in her hands. Paula was glad that her daughter had followed her in the area of dual-wielding, even if she scoffed at Paula’s preferred weapons. In a real fight, Jade’s blades would have been coated in poison (Jade was becoming very fond of a jellyfish toxin that she distilled herself, although she wasn’t opposed to using her mother’s more traditional herbal based poisons), but for the sparring they were untainted.

Jade’s eyes darted around, dubious about the opening that Paula had given her. Her footwork was intricate and careful, each step silent on the ground.

Without warning, Paula launched herself forward, her tiger hook swords a gleaming silver arc as they sliced through the air, towards Jade. Jade rolled under, her sais darting out. Paula gracefully leapt into the air, twisting so that her torso faced the ground in order to both strike at Jade and to block any potential attack.

Jade completed a perfect tuck and roll and sprung up to her feet, twirling to face her mother. Paula smiled. “Excellent form,” she said, advancing before attacking again. This time Jade parried, the sound of clashing steel echoing throughout the room. Jade tried to slide her blades down to release them from the lock, but Paula pressed forward, using her height and weight to her advantage, and Jade was forced to retreat.

“Not fair,” Jade grumbled, darting low again. Paula blocked with her left and struck with her right, forcing Jade to leap into the air again to avoid the blade.

“Most opponents will be bigger than you,” Paula noted, allowing Jade to take the offense. The sais darted through the air, tiny pricks of silver compared to Paula’s blades.Paula blocked them, although some of them were an effort.

Jade had raw skill, and she was harnessing it well. It was only Paula’s years of experience that allowed her to keep ahead of her daughter. Paula had been one of the best, after all.

It was why she was still alive.

Paula’s musings were interrupted by several foam-tipped practice arrows striking her in the back.

She straightened up, lowering her weapons, laughing as she did so. “Did you two plan this?” She asked Artemis, who grinned at her mother cheekily, her compound bow in her hands.

“ _Maybe_ ,” Jade said, drawing the word out, her eyes gleaming with concealed laughter.

Paula laughed again. “That’s my girls.”

* * *

Talia al Ghul was a woman of loyalty. She had to be, to navigate the fine line between her love of her father and her love of Bruce Wayne, and the conflicting moralities and worlds that lay between them.

However, most assumed it ended there. That her loyalties were split between the two and two alone.

Talia believed in loyalty. Loyalty to family, loyalty to her Beloved... and loyalty to her friends.

Talia al Ghul’s position in life had afforded her few friends. Most were dead, and the few that still lived, she cherished deeply.

Paula Nguyen was one such friend.

Talia smiled thinly to herself as she opened up a bank account. She had not spoken to Paula for quite a while, not since the fateful promise that she feared.

 _Protect them_ , she could hear Paula whisper. _Protect my girls._

Oh, she would, Talia thought. But Paula was a fool if she thought that the promise meant that her protection ended with Artemis and Jade.

She made a few keystrokes on the computer, and pressed send. She closed the lid of her laptop and smiled to herself. Paula had served by her side for years--her simple message would be sufficient.

* * *

Paula Nguyen did not remember her mother. There wasn’t even a faded memory, or a blur or... anything. Paula’s first memories were of being alone and hungry. Honestly, they weren’t all that different from any of her memories of her childhood. Her youth had been lean, full of scrounging and scavenging, and just making do. She did not know her mother’s name, or her face, or a single thing about her. She did not know if the woman had died or if she had just left her one day, left her to depend on the charity of the village and her own resourcefulness. All Paula had was a last name that half the village seemed to share. That was all her mother had left her.

Of her father, Paula knew even less. She knew he had been been American or French, or maybe even English. Artemis’s blonde hair was proof enough of that. But she had long suspected, guessed because of whispered slurs and a few oddities in her features. She wondered if he had been a tourist, or a soldier, or a missionary. She wondered if her mother had taken him to her bed for love, or for money, or if it hadn’t been by choice at all.

Paula had long promised herself that her girls would not grow up like she did. That they would never know the desperation so great that they would follow the first person to offer them food and stabilit, even if the person had a smile like a blade and eyes like ungiving stone. She still remembered the words, which cut through the _status quo_ of her life as if it were a heated knife through butter.

_You’re not completely hopeless, I suppose. I’ll train you._

Paula thought of this and watched as her daughters ran alongside each other through the streets of Rio de Janeiro.

Paula smiled, watching as Artemis threw herself onto Jade's back, demanding a piggy-back ride.

Life here was good. Paula couldn't remember being this happy since Artemis was born.

It was a pity it was all about to end.

The message from Talia made Paula nervous, her nerves ablaze.

She wondered who had found her.

She turned a corner to follow her girls, and found herself in an alley.

Perfect for an ambush.

Just as she thought that, there was the familiar whisper of a projectile being thrown. She leapt forward without a thought, tackling her daughters to the ground. “Get _down_!”

The javelin imbedded itself into a nearby wall and exploded, sending rubble and smoke in all directions.

She shoved the girls away from her and rolled to her feet, pulling out her sword handles. With a click of a button, the hooked blades emerged. She struck a defensive position and listened to her daughters scramble for their own weapons.

“Mom, what’s going--” Jade began.

“ _Quiet_ ,” Paula snapped, harsher than she meant to, but it could not be helped.

“Nice to see that you’ve still got those instincts,” Lawrence called out as he appeared in the alley. In one hand he held a sword of his own. Paula shifted slightly. Of _course_ he would be the one to come for them.

“They’re hard to lose, lover,” she said, her old nickname for him dropping easily from her lips.

“You’d think it would be the same for family,” he replied, his steel eyes cold and hard.

Paula smiled sadly. “You would.” Then she struck, her swords colliding with his in a clang of steel. He parried and thrust, systematically inspecting her strengths and weaknesses, probing for a fault in her defenses. Paula blocked a strike of his aimed for her heart with her left blade and sliced with her right, cutting his face. He let out a howl of pain as the hook of her sword sliced his cheek, blood pouring down his face. Paula trapped his sword using the hook on the end of her left blade, forcing it down so that he could not block her again. She flipped her sword in her hand, so that she could use sharpened pommel. Crusher’s eyes widened behind his mask and he let go of his sword, retreating back. The saber crashed to the ground, and Paula advanced, still holding her right blade backwards, but it didn’t really matter.

Paula had chosen hook swords as her weapons because of its varied uses. The guard, pommel, blade and hooks could each function as a blade on their own, and Paula had never been afraid to utilize any of them.

“C’mon,” Lawrence jeered, eyes mocking her as he smiled beneath his mask. “You can do better than that.”

“I certainly can,” Paula said softly. “However, I don’t need to beat you, do I?”

Understanding flickered in his eye, but not soon enough. He ducked the stun arrow Artemis let loose from behind Paula... only to be stabbed in the back by Jade with a poison dart.

“Good riddance,” Jade muttered, giving her father’s limp form a light kick.

Artemis looked less certain. “Was he really here to kill you?” She asked, her grey eyes (just like Lawrence’s) not wavering from where he lay.

“Yes,” the word hurt to say. She might never have loved Lawrence (love was a luxury that Paula rarely felt; there were only three people on Earth who Paula was certain that she loved, and her husband had never been one of them) but he had been a good partner and even husband, when he tried. Sometimes, he even showed signs that he could be a good father (or even a good man), but they were so few and far between that Paula had long learned to ignore them. But she had still trusted him. “Yes, Artemis. He was.” _And to take you away_ , she refused to say. She wasn’t entirely certain that her daughters understood what might happen to them. She was not about to enlighten them.

They left Lawrence Crock in Brazil, but not before Paula alerted InterPol of the possibility of Sportsmaster being in Brazil, headed for the United States. She smiled sweetly, and boarded a bus with her daughters (no longer _theirs_ ).

* * *

Crossing the border was really no problem for someone with their skills. Paula kept them on the move, mainly through large cities, where they could blend in without much problem. They rented apartments for weeks at a time, the girls learning out of scrounged textbooks and the internet. Paula was forced to churn out multiple identities at a time, due to scarcity of the resources.

The girls kept training, and they kept getting better. Artemis’s aim was impeccable, and Jade could seemingly vanish, a trait Paula was incredibly proud of passing on.

Fall passed. Paula reluctantly bought a car; an aged and battered (but still nondescript) Ford. She taught the girls to switch license plates, how to paint the body well enough to pass all but a professional inspection, and even how to drive (she was very glad that she only had two daughters; she doubted she could have survived another session.)

Winter came, and along with it her daughters’ birthdays. She gave Jade two vials of paralyzing venom, and a mask with infrared vision capabilities and filters, which Jade and Artemis immediately doctored up to look like the Cheshire Cat. Artemis received a variety of trick arrows, as well as a copy of Disney’s _Alice in Wonderland_.

Paula wondered, sometimes, if she was a bad mother.

March came, and found them back in Metropolis once again. Paula hated this city, hated the risks it represented. With an alien with X-Ray vision patrolling the sky, there was too much risk.

They would not stay there long, Paula was determined of that. But her contact at LexCorp couldn’t risk leaving the city, so she had to come to him. He had promised her information on a tracking program that she had reason to believe that the Shadows were using to chase them. (Black Spider had attacked them in New York City. Hook in Baltimore. Lady Vic had found them in Philadelphia, although Jade had attacked her before the ambush could be sprung.)

It was a risk, but a calculated one. Paula just hoped it would be alright.

Paula lent over Artemis’s bed, closing the book she had been reading to them. “Goodnight, Artemis,” Paula whispered softly, kissing her daughter’s cheek. It was almost midnight, and already Paula’s eyes were heavy.

“Night Mom,” the blonde replied, hugging Paula sleepily.

Paula crossed over to the other bed and ran her hands through Jane’s thick mane. “Goodnight Jade.”

Jade’s eyes were already closed. “Night Mom,” she muttered sleepily, rolling over. Her pillow shifted slightly, revealing the sai she kept under her pillow. Paula smiled to herself, moving silently out of the room.

“Sleep well,” she said fondly, closing the door and turning off the light.

She entered the kitchen/living room area of the motel they were staying at, and sat down at the table with a small sigh.

A cold wind tickled the back of her neck, and she leapt to her feet, reaching for her swords. The window had been opened.

“Did you say good bye to your children?” A soft, familiar voice asked from the shadows.

Paula spun around, her dark eyes wide with fear. She fell into defensive position, her swords drawn and ready. “You,” she breathed. Her heart hammered in her chest, and her stomach plunged down.

“I could hardly let this stand, could I?” The other demanded. “Let you just get away with destroying my reputation?”

“How your reputation?” Paula demanded, giving up on being able to see her opponent. Her swords sliced through the darkness of the room, hoping to get lucky. Her eyes darted around, searching. The other had extinguished all lights in the room; although a little trickled in through the open window.

“You were _my_ apprentice, girl,” the other snarled, and Paula changed directions completely, hoping that the other had not learned ventriloquism since they last fought. “Your failure stains _me_. I’m here to claim my payment, _girl_.”

“You stay away from my daughters!” She cried out, her vision going red with rage. Paula finally saw a figure in the dark and lunged forward, her swords slicing through the air, passing through nothing.

A knife slipped into her back, and her vision went white with pain. Long fingers gripped her throat, dragging away Paula’s oxygen. “You knew the price,” the other hissed, doing the best to crush Paula’s windpipe. “You swore it, by blood, by blade, by word.”

Paula’s vision was going blurry, and the pain was eating away at her mind, making it hard to think clearly.

“ _Mom_!” Artemis screamed from the other room, and Paula realized, vaguely, that she must have screamed when she’d been stabbed.

Paula drove the hilt of her sword backwards, impaling her attacker through the layers of Kevlar and armor that the other wore. Paula was released, and she fell to the ground, gasping for breath. “I was a child,” she rasped, searching in the darkness again. “I didn’t understand,” her voice was rough and dry, and she could hear her daughters in the next room. “ _Please_.”

“Now you pay,” whispered the other, and the last thing Paula saw was her daughters breaking down the door (which must have been locked, she realized, sickened) just before her throat was slit open by her own sword.


	4. Metropolis Nights

“Mom!” Jade screamed. The dark figure didn’t even turn at the sound. They shoved Paula to the ground, where she fell, not even doing anything to prevent her collision with the ground. Jade ran, her knives out, but before she could make a move, the figure stepped into the darkness and vanished without a trace through the open window. Jade charged forward anyways, intending to find the attacker and slit their throat.

“Jade!” Artemis yelled, kneeling beside their mother. “Help me!”

Jade changed directions immediately, the attacker completely forgotten. “Get a towel!” She yelled, her mind scrambling through all of the first aid training that Mom had ever given her. Blood was everywhere, staining the carpet and Jade’s knees as she knelt beside her mother. A towel was thrown her way, and Jade snatched it out of midair, pressing it against Paula’s throat.

“Mom, stay with me, please stay with me, _Mom_ ,” Jade was crying. She spun around, tears pouring down her cheeks, towards Artemis, her eyes blazing. “Call an ambulance!” She yelled. Artemis, pale and wet-faced herself, darted towards the corded phone in their room.

Jade cradled her mother’s head and kept talking. Paula’s eyes were flickering open and shut, not focusing on anything in particular. “Mom? Mom, please. Don’t leave us. I can’t do this. Mom, please, I’m not ready. Mom? _Mom_? Answer me! _Mom_?”

In the background, she could here Artemis crying, begging the operator to send help.

“Artemis!” She yelled, suddenly feeling the pulse in Mom’s neck flutter, then stop. “ _Artemis!_ ”

Artemis was there in an instant. “Jade? _Jade_?”

Jade looks at her. She wasn’t crying anymore. Her chest felt oddly hollow, as if someone had scooped out everything that mattered, and just left her behind. A robot Jade. “I... I...”

Artemis understood. She threw herself into Jade’s arms, sobbing desperately. Jade wrapped her arms around her sister and started brushing her hair with her hand absently, not noticing the blood that now covered the two of them. Jade didn’t say a word.

* * *

Maggie Sawyer hated days like this.

She looked down at the dossier in her hands. A murdered woman, two daughters made the call. They hadn’t said anything so far. The two girls, one not even a teenager yet, huddled together, sitting on a bench in the interrogation room.

The older one wore a shirt several times too big for her, but her hands were still faintly pink. They’d been covered in blood recently. Her hair was dark, thick and bushy, hiding her face and expression. Her arm was around the shoulder of her younger sister--a blonde girl who had both of her arms wrapped around her.

Maggie checked her file for names. The dead woman’s Texas driver’s license claimed that she was Paula Brooks. But the girls had no identification, and, since the driver’s license was hardly holding up to scrutiny, she doubted she could have believed it if they did.

“Hello,” she said, closing the file and opening the door of the room.

The girls looked up in unison. The older one scowled as she took in the uniform Maggie wore, the badge displayed prominently on her hip. Maggie closed the door behind her and sat down across from them, placing the file down on the table between them.

“I’m Captain Sawyer,” she said, offering them a small smile. “What about you two?”

“Jade,” the older girl said, still staring at Maggie suspiciously.

“Artemis,” whispered the younger one, finally releasing Jade from her grip.

Maggie nodded. “Now, I’m going to have to ask you a few questions about what happened....”

“Our mom _died_!” Snapped Jade, steely eyes flashing.

“I know,” Maggie said, biting down on the instinctual _I’m sorry_ that threatened to make its way out. “But did you see or hear anything? Anything that might help us catch whoever did this.”

Jade opened her mouth, probably prepared to say something biting from the expression on her face, but Maggie’s phone went off. With _Superman’s_ ringtone. She got up. “I need to take this,” she said, trying to keep her frustration from showing. “Detective Allen should be in in a minute. If you need anything to eat or drink, tell him.” Cursing everything, especially the town that she lived in, she left the room, pulling out her phone as she went.

“Detective,” an unfamiliar voice said right outside the interrogation room. She spun on her heel and reached for her gun, only to remember that she had _left it in her desk_ , since she had to deal with children.

She stared as her brain caught up with her instincts. _Batman_ was standing there.

“What the hell are you doing in my building?” She demanded, noticing that the phone had stopped ringing. She didn’t doubt it was his fault somehow. Superman had told her enough stories for her to recognize one of Batman’s ridiculous gambits when caught up in one. “I am in the middle of a murder investigation--”

“Her name was Paula Nguyen, not Paula Brooks,” the man cut her off with a wave of his hand. She folded her arms, unimpressed. She’d dealt with Lex Luthor, Toyman, General Zod, and the Parasite. She’d shouted at Superman, held off Lois Lane, and gotten drunk with Wonder Woman. She was not about to take bullshit from anyone, especially not a man in a bat costume.

He didn’t relent. “She was an assassin for the League of Shadows, known as Huntress.”

“The Shadows?” Maggie rubbed her temples. “Shit. You know who killed her?”

“She betrayed the Shadows,” Batman said, turning to look through the mirrored glass to look at the two girls. “There was a bounty on her head.”

She pushed her bangs away from her forehead, exhaling deeply. “Well _shit_.” She looked at the kids, who just sat there. “What about the kids?” She asked. “They in danger?”

Batman nodded. “My sources indicate that whoever killed Huntress is likely to attempt to abduct them.”

“Goddamit,” Maggie closed her eyes. “I don’t suppose your Justice League could help with that?”

He turned to her, eyes promising death and destruction.

“Wonder Woman told me, you can quit that glaring,” she snapped. “I’ve got two kids in danger, probably weapon trained and taught to distrust police, and you’re worried about your secret superhero club?” She poked him in the chest. “I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with here, _Batman_ , but I don’t take shit from Lex Luthor, so I’m certainly not going to take it from you. You’re going to tell me what I need to know, none of this “I’m the Goddamn Batman the mysterious crusader,” bullshit, and _then you’re going to either help or let me do my job_.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Batman said after a long pause.

“Are they trained?” She demanded, careful not to let herself stop looking at him. She’d heard Lois complain about his disappearing trick often enough not to let him have that opportunity.

“Most likely. I couldn’t find weapons for Nguyen, so theirs are probably stashed with hers.”

“You fought Nguyen before?”

“A few times,” he said darkly.

Maggie crossed her arms. “Would protective custody be a good idea?”

“It might be able to hold them off for a while,” Batman said. “I’ll see if I can arrange something more permanent.”

“Good.”

Suddenly, Batman tensed, his fists clenching by his side.

“Something the matter?” Maggie asked.

“The Joker,” Batman muttered. “He just broke out of Arkham.”

Maggie swore. She’d met the Joker once. More than enough. “Go stop him then,” she said, turning away. “I’ll move them into witness protection for now.”

“I’ll be in touch.” There was a faint rustle, and then he was gone.

Maggie closed her eyes and counted to ten. God, she missed Toby on nights like tonight.

* * *

A beautiful woman walked into the Metropolis Police Station. She wore a skirt-suit, an elegant black linen piece, with sheer leggings and sleek black leather pump heels. Her hair was an elegant black bob, her eyes dark brown, her skin pale brown. “Miranda Tate,” she said, handing the man at the desk a business card. She smiled, showing off a set of straight white teeth. “I’m here to pick up two girls.”

“Do you have the paperwork for it?” He asked, staring at the business card, uncertain. He was new and young, it was late at night, and his shift had been long and boring.

“Right here,” she said, producing a thick set of papers from the black leather bag slung across her shoulder. He scanned through it, noting official looking signatures and seals.

“Seems to be in order,” he said, setting it down. “I’ll get someone to fetch them...”

“I’d like to get them myself. Could I have an escort?” Ms. Tate smiled again.

“Of course,” he said, gesturing to a friend of his.

The door to the interrogation room opened. Detective Crispus Allen had just left, leaving the girls with sandwiches and soda from the vending machines. They looked up, mouths full.

“Girls,” Miranda Tate stood there, her face serious. “I’m Miranda Tate, with Child Protection Services.”

Jade nodded, grabbing Artemis’s hand and tugging her off the bench. “C’mon,” she said lowly. Artemis stared at Miranda like she was the second coming. Miranda held out her hands, and each girl grabbed one. They walked out of the police station.

“Keep walking,” Talia al Ghul said quietly, eyes straight ahead. “I’ve got a car parked at the corner.”

“You came,” Artemis said quietly.

“I promised I would,” Talia responded, opening the door of a silver Audi and ushering the girls inside. She slipped in after them. “Drive,” she ordered the man behind the steering wheel. He nodded once and hit the gas, speeding off into the Metropolis night.

A glass divider raised, separating the driver from his passengers. Jade looked around. The interior of the car was made of soft grey leather, with wooden panneling. It was an expensive car, Jade was fairly certain, but she missed the old battered Ford that Mom drove.

Mom. A lump re-materialized in her throat. “Mom,” she let out a broken sob. Tears poured down her cheeks. “ _Mom_.”

“I know,” Talia whispered, holding Jade and Artemis close. “I know. I miss her too.”

“What’s gonna happen to us?” Artemis asked in a quiet voice, sounding very very small.

“You two shall stay with me,” she said, petting Artemis’s hair soothingly. “You will be safe. I promise.”

“You’ll help us find who killed Mom?” Demanded Jade, looking at Talia with watery eyes. “Right?”

Talia looked away. “I cannot.”

“ _What_?” Artemis looked up, eyes blazing despite the tears on her cheeks.

“Paula betrayed the Shadows,” Talia said quietly. “I did all I could to protect her. But to take action against her killer would be to move against my father.”

“So?” Jade yelled, wiping her tears away furiously. “ _So_? Mom’s _dead_! You’re just gonna... gonna _sit there_? Ask us to just be good and sit quiet and _take that_?”

“Do you even know who did it?” Demanded Artemis, pushing away Talia’s arms, and scooting away, pressing herself against the firm wall of the car.

“I thought she was your _friend_!”

“Girls,” Talia said, voice firm and controlling, a whip crack. “Stop. This is dangerous.”

“No.” Jade said quietly. “I’m not just going to sit back and take this. I’m going to find whoever killed Mom... and I’m going to see justice done. Even if I have to tear through the entire League of Shadows to do it, I’m going to make sure that they _pay_ for what they did to Mom.”

“So you’ve decided.”

“We have!” Artemis declared, crossing her arms and glaring.

Talia looked at them and nodded. She pressed a button. “Stop the car,” she said over the intercom.

The car pulled over on the side of the road.

“Do you know your mother’s security codes?” Talia asked, reaching into her purse and removing a thick leather wallet.

“Yes.” Jade said.

“The codes for the weapons caches?”

“Yes,” Artemis replied, face growing more and more determined by the second.

“Excellent.” Talia removed a wad of bills from her wallet and pressed them into Jade’s hand. “Get out of the town. Batman will be tracking you, as well as the Shadows.”

“We’re not worried about the Shadows,” Jade declared, throwing open the door to the car. Artemis scrambled across Talia’s lap to join her sister. “It’s them that better be worried about us.”

The two of them vanished into the night.

Once they were gone Talia let her head fall into her hands. “I’m sorry Paula,” she whispered, a single drop of water falling onto her skir. “I’m so sorry...”

* * *

The girls were gone. Maggie threw the sheaf of falsified documents that incompetent night-shifter had produced when Maggie had demanded answers across the room.

“You just let someone _waltz right in_ and take _important witnesses_ away, _without so much as consulting me_?”

The rookie was quaking in his boots, wishing that the ground would swallow him whole and save him from the wrath of Maggie Sawyer.

“You just put two young girls in _extreme danger_ , compromised a murder case, _and broke practically every regulation there is_.” Captain Sawyer’s voice shook the coffee mugs set precariously on the many desks of the department. Most of the other cops kept their heads low, muttering to each other about how they’d feel sympathy for the poor guy, but he really deserved it. Maggie Sawyer didn’t get angry very often, but when she did, it was a sight to behold. “Do you have a single excuse? Anything to say for yourself? Or are you just going to sit there cowering?”

The man tried to say something, but it came out as a high pitch whine that probably could be used as Krypto’s dog-whistle. Maggie’s glare intensified, and the rookie let out another whimper.

“Get out of my sight,” she snapped. “I don’t have time to deal with you.” She spun on her heel, stomping to her office.

“Hope you had a backup career, rookie,” Detective Crispus Allen said, shaking his head as he walked by. “Captain Sawyer ain’t gonna forgive this easily.”

“Hey,” one of the other men laughed, leaning back in his chair. “Gotham’s always hiring.”

Allen laughed, shaking his head. “Only if the poor boy’s got a death wish.” He headed toward the coffe machine, muttering to his breath about freaks in capes.

* * *

_Two Months Later_

The grave was small. The name was _Paula Nguyen Crock_. The dates given were _1972-2006_. It was surrounded by similar graves. A gloved hand reached out and brushed the carved words slowly.

A wreath of pink carnations lay on the newly growing grass, out of place in this graveyard of the inconvenient dead. The night sky was clear, unusually so for in a city.

“I’m sorry Paula,” Bruce Wayne said, placing his hands in his pockets, his head bowed low. “I... I never meant it to be like this.”

There was a long pause. He closed his eyes, as if imagining a response.

“I’ll find them,” he promised the headstone. “I’ll find your daughters. I’ll keep them safe.”

He turned around and walked away. His black overcoat fluttering in the breeze, like a cape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay a few notes on this chapter. Yeah, it was a bit of a filler. 
> 
> Maggie Sawyer, for those who don't know her, was a big character in the Metropolis Police Department. She's been in Superman: The Animated Series and Smallville, if you're interested. However, she came to my attention through her role in Gotham Central, a phenomenal comic run featuring the Gotham City Major Crimes Unit. (You should all check it out, if you haven't read it!) Crispus Allen, who also appears in this chapter, is another major character in that story arc. I hope this wasn't too confusing for people who aren't as well acquainted with comics. In the rough draft of this chapter, it was Lois Lane, not Maggie, who interviewed the girls, but for obvious legal procedure issues, I changed it. 
> 
> Furthermore, this chapter served to continue to establish Paula as a character, despite the fact that she's, well, dead. Her connections to Talia, the Shadows, and yes, Bruce Wayne, will continue to be explored throughout this series. I hope you all enjoyed it!


	5. Return to Gotham City

_One Year Later_

Jade had once heard it said that any child who could not break into their own home deserved to be left out in the rain. The old Crock apartment, abandoned since Lawrence’s arrest, was very well sealed up, but it stood no chance against Jade and Artemis’ combined determination.

The whole place was covered in dust. The police had obviously been here, leaving crime scene tape scattered on the floor and boot prints on the once-clean carpets. Someone had been thoughtful enough to drape white plastic tarps over the furniture, creating a strange, haunted look to their old home. Jade and Artemis slipped through the living room, their footprints leaving indents in the thick dust. Jade raised her sleeve to cover her nose, hoping to prevent any sneezes.

"We’re really staying here?" Artemis whimpered softly, holding her bag against her chest like it was a shield to protect her from the memories that haunted the whole apartment. In a way, Artemis was glad that the police had invaded their home—the sheets over the furniture made it look like a haunted house, not where she had been raised. She didn’t feel her mother’s ghost hanging over her, reminding her miserably of her presence. At least, not yet.

“It’s the safest place we know,” Jade said grimly.

“But _Batman_ knows about it!” Artemis protested, pushing open the door to their old room with her foot. The door swung open with a creak of rusty hinges, and she poked her head in cautiously.

Jade’s _Alice in Wonderland_ and Artemis’ martial arts posters were still in place. The blinds on the windows were drawn tightly shut, successfully hiding the girls from anyone who might appear on the fire escape. Their beds had been covered in the same tarps as the rest of the furniture. Artemis shifted the one on her bed to the side, revealing her old quilt and pillows. The cops had found her secret stash under the floorboards--her old comic books hadn’t been touched, but all of her chocolate was gone, and part of Artemis couldn’t help but scowl at that, even though she knew it would be inedible by now.

Jade pulled the plastic off their beds, raising a cloud of dust that made Artemis choke, sputtering and bending over, gasping for air as she grasped her knees to prevent herself from falling over. Her hair fell out of its ponytail, her hair falling over her shoulders, nearly brushing the floor as she stood there, doubled over, dust in her lungs and tears in her eyes.

Jade was there in an instant, dark eyes alight with worry, her brow creasing. “Artemis?”  

“I’m fine,” Artemis gasped, her vision blurred.

“You better not be sick,” Jade muttered, scooping Artemis up into her arms.

“Just the dust,” Artemis grumbled, squirming in Jade’s grip. “Lemme down.”

“Fine,” Jade said, dumping Artemis onto the leaf patterned comforter of her old bed. _Poof_. Another cloud of dust was raised, causing Artemis to start coughing again. “ _Dammit_.” Jade said, biting her lip in consternation. A mistake—she ought to have realized that the dust had settled in.

“I’m fine,” Artemis rasped, her throat dry as paper, rubbing her eyes. “Stop babying me. We need to figure out what we’re going to do tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Jade said firmly, crossing her arms and frowning at her sister, her lips a thin and commanding line. “Tomorrow night.”

“We don’t have that kind of _time_!” Artemis protested, eyes wide with concern. “Batman could find us, someone could notice we’re here--”

“It’s _Gotham_ ,” Jade said, rolling her eyes. “No one will notice, no one will care, and if the police knock on the doors, it’s “no I haven’t seen anything officer”. And Batman has bigger concerns than two kids like us. We haven’t even done anything besides run around and try to survive.”

“Besides Star City?”

“Okay, besides Star City.”

“And Central?”

“Hardly counts.”

“We kind of blew up a building...”

“That happens to a lot of people!”

“Does it?”

“Okay, not really, but we were fighting bad guys. It happens. Sometimes.”

Artemis raised an eyebrow, massaging her throat, wondering if the water still worked.

Jade sighed. “Fine. Tonight. I’ll go get those blueprints.” She grabbed her duffle bag and unzipped it, revealing multiple changes of clothes, a green robe, and a mask painted to look like the Cheshire mask.

She spread the blueprints out on the floor, revealing a layout of a three story building that had roof access, multiple offices, a basement, and, most importantly, a room full of the files they needed, all traced out on the deep blue paper with bright white lines. Jade was just thankful that the architect had decipherable handwriting—they hadn’t always been so lucky, the last few times they’d needed to plan a B&E.  

Jade traced the blueprint with her finger, drawing an invisible path through the maze of rooms. Artemis’s eyes followed it with sniper-like precision, memorizing the directions that they would need. “It’s a cold case, so it’s a pretty safe bet they’ll be in… _here_.” Her finger ended up in a basement room labelled _Storage_ , in loopy cursive lettering.  

“Not the evidence locker?” Artemis asked, pointing at a different room, also in the basement. Her expression was hard—her ‘work face’. Her eyebrows swooped down, furrowing right above her nose, leaving ridges on her brow that Jade hated to see, and her mouth was a thin, hard line that emphasized her resemblance to Lawrence Crock—not that Jade would ever dream of telling Artemis that.

“If it’s not there, we’ll check it,” Jade reassured her sister, hoping to see that frown disappear. “But I don’t think they had much evidence really, not if it’s like what happened… in Metropolis.”

Artemis looked down for a second, staring at the faded pattern on her old bed. “I guess,” she said softly, her eyes far away.

“C’mon,” Jade said, grabbing her mask. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Let’s head out.”

The two of them left the place that had once been home, leaving footprints in the dust and duffles on the bed, and vanished into the Gotham night, as their mother had done before them.

They were going hunting.

* * *

The ghost of Paula hung over Artemis and Jade; a lingering, unavoidable sight in the corner of their eyes as they walked the streets of Gotham, their heads bowed low to avoid the rain. There was the park she had taken them to; there was a restaurant they had eaten in; there, a sidewalk where she had bandaged their scrapes and hugged them until the tears stopped. Paula had seeped herself into Gotham despite her long (and now eternal) absense, she was undeniably there, even though her daughters knew she was in a grave in Metropolis. Jade felt like her heart might tear itself in two, this constant reminder of her mother’s absence ripping at her. She forced herself to swallow the lump that was painfully growing in her throat and gripped Artemis’s hand as tightly as she dared, feeling the scars and callouses that already marred her little sister’s skin.

Jade looked at her sister out of the corner of her eye. The year without their mother had aged both of them. Twelve now, Artemis held herself differently—there was a hardness in her eye that hadn’t been there before, a sort of anger at the world that could be seen in her face and her posture. Her hair was braided in a tight braid that Artemis did herself—Jade was no longer allowed to touch her sister’s hair to style it. Artemis still braided Jade’s wild mane, however, reigning in the thick, wavy mass, which needed to be held into place with three elastics by now. Jade thought about cutting it, but it felt wrong, somehow, to cut what she had inherited from her mother. Paula might have tamed her hair with straightening irons and pins, but in the morning her hair had been just as wild as Jade’s, thick and wavy and out of control. Jade wondered how long it had taken her mother to learn how to force her hair to surrender into her neat buns and braids, to tease it into straight lines and even neat, tight curls. Paula had mastered the art of changing her hair into whatever she wanted it to be; another trick of hers she had never taught her daughters.

The year on the road had hardened Jade as well, along with the continuing rollercoaster of puberty. Her features were fine and defined now, her eyes smart and hard, polished steel, sharpened to a point. Her form was narrow and muscled, the curves slight. At sixteen, Jade did everything in her power to look older. She wore eye shadow in smoky colors and winged her eye liner, she wore clothes and shoes to make herself look like she was in college, desperately projecting confidence until she started to feel it herself. It had worked so far—no one ever questioned Jade’s fake IDs that she produced to rent hotel rooms, and her story of being Artemis’s legal guardian had never been challenged. But still Jade’s nerves buzzed whenever a police officer passed them, wondering if they would somehow know that she was not old enough, and then sweep them into the system, where they would surely be separated, or found by the Shadows. Jade wasn’t sure which would be worse. No, that was a lie. She’d rather be among the Shadows, among the bloodied hands and frozen hearts who stole her mother from her, being forced to kill and lie and do whatever else they wanted her to do, than to lose Artemis. Artemis, who was learning to hate and to distrust, whose innocence was fading fast, who would grow up without a mother. Jade would not lose her. Not for anything. 

The police station was hilariously easy to break into; especially when Artemis and Jade’s ages were taken into consideration. But then again, they were also highly trained and desperate. Jade wondered, sometimes, which of the two really gave them the edge over those they hunted.

Hunted—it was the best word for what they did. Just as their mother before them had done, they stalked through the night, searching for their targets, and taking them down with a vicious, predatory manner. They hunted Shadows—lunging at things that weren’t always there, dashing between cities in search of clues and information to help them track the untrackable, to seek out answers that did not exist.

Their mother’s killer was illusive—Jade and Artemis knew nothing about them, except that they used a knife and could kill Paula Nguyen. Their identity was also a secret, with none of their previous targets—Black Spider, Lady Vic, or even Hook—having even the slightest inkling over who it was. That rankled Jade, that the Shadows hid the killer so well. Talia knew, Jade was sure of that, although Artemis, being more forgiving and less suspicious most of the time than Jade, did not believe so.

The thirst for vengeance was strong in the Nguyen girls, and they were strong enough to find it, even if they had to hunt for years and tear through thousands of Shadows to find the person who had shattered their already battered lives beyond repair.

They slipped through the cool corridors of the Gotham Police Station, their footsteps silent despite the echoey hallways that the concrete walls and floors created. Beneath her mask, Jade’s eyes darted everywhere, looking for someone who might be wandering the basement at this time.

The door to the storage lockers was, of course, locked. Jade unrolled her set of lockpicks on the floor, the brilliant brass tools shining in contrast to the soft green felt that held them normally. Jade selected several, and quickly set to work, while Artemis began to move ceiling tiles to create a sniper’s nest for herself. Artemis’s cowl swooped from forehead to nose, covering most of her identifiable features. White lenses, which held a variety of useful tools, just like the red lenses in Jade’s mask, blocked her eyes from sight, which Artemis hated, but Jade insisted upon. The less known about them, the better.

The door finally swung open under Jade’s careful prodding and poking, and she rolled her picks up and stowed them quickly, slipping inside and closing the door behind her.

Rows and rows of filing cabinets lay before her, and the motion sensitive lights clicked on, shuddering into existence slowly but surely.

Jade exhaled softly. Now came the less-fun part.

She had a date, she had a name. She did not know the organization system of the Gotham PD, she did not know when someone would need a file or anything from here. She was on a time crunch, and she had no idea what exactly she was looking for. .

She peered at one date, then the next. There were no handy labels, just letters and numbers. The first one she spotted read _Case Files 1, Aa-Ar_. Jade groaned inside.

She walked through the files, pulling out a drawer here or there, hoping to get an idea for the system that organized them. Jade was bewildered by the system that seemed to exist—a blur of dates and names— _three names_ , not even one!

Suddenly, she froze. She was in the C’s, and this file cabinet was different. It spanned five cabinets, for starters. Unlike the other labels, neatly printed off and simple, this one was written in permanent marker, and taped on.

COSTUMED FREAKS, it read in crude handwriting.

Jade pulled open the first file of the first cabinet, squinting. A—She saw a variety of _Alices,_ a fat, single file for _Arkham Asylum_ (and a separate, more slender one for _Arkham, Jeramiah_ ). She felt a stab of hope— _this might be it_.

She searched, looking for references to the mysterious case that she and Artemis believed to have been caused by the same monster that killed their mother. A Lilian Worth, an assassin for the Shadows, had gone off grid and had hidden herself in Gotham City, hoping that Batman’s presence would scare away retaliation for whatever offence she had committed—Hook’s information had been rather vague about whatever it was Worth had done.

Suddenly, her fingers froze on a label of one of the cabinet drawers. _Crock, Paula (See: Huntress) – Cluemaster (ID Unknown)_. She stared at it. Intellectually, she knew, Mom had counted as one of the costumed villains of Gotham—Huntress was a Shadow who had operated out of there, after all. But Jade forgot that, somewhere in South America, that Mom had been a villain, or at least a criminal. She hesitated. _Just get what we came for_ , she thought to herself, forcing her eyes away. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, and kept walking, searching for the _W_ section.

She found Worth’s file, a thick slab of papers within an acid free file. Jade didn’t care about Worth’s kill records and criminal history, however—although both were pages thick, which made Jade’s stomach twist just to think about. The crime scene photos, the murder weapon estimations, everything about Worth’s death, were, in contrast, exactly what she had come for. She stowed the file back in the case.

She walked towards the door, clutching the thin sheets of paper in her hands, wondering if they held the secret to Paula Nguyen’s killer. She passed the drawer, with Lawrence’s name still attached to Paula’s—that still burned, slightly, that they still associated Sportsmaster with Huntress, even though Crusher would have willingly killed Paula to restore his reputation.

Her hands shook slightly as she pulled open the drawer. She stared at it, the innocent looking grouping of papers and rubber bands, maybe twenty pages thick. _I should just go_ , she thought, tracing the uneven lines of the papers with her gloved fingers. _Just walk away_.

Did she really want to know her mother’s sins? Her mother’s past? Paula never spoke of her life with the Shadows, never told them how she had joined their ranks, how she had met their father, or even how she had settled in Gotham with a debt that made her flee the Shadows once Lawrence was gone.

Paula Nguyen was dead, her body buried in a Pauper’s Cemetery in Metropolis, and her daughters had no one to turn to but each other. Paula’s secrets, her past, had died with her, silent and still on her tongue, never to be spoken or even recalled. Jade doubted that police officers could know much about the illusive Huntress, who had never owned a legitimate driver’s license or passed an untampered background check in her life. But…

But it might be all Jade might ever find.

Jade snatched the file out of the drawer and slammed it shut much louder than she should have. The clash of metal on metal echoed throughout the small room, and Jade flinched, half expecting a SWAT team to descend on her with guns drawn. She stuffed the file into the hidden carrying compartment of her Cheshire outfit, where she was keenly aware of it, as if it was hot coals pressed against her skin. She ran from the room, and prayed that the absence of the file would go unnoticed.

* * *

“Let’s get home, grab our stuff, and bail before Batman notices we’re in town,” Jade said, pulling her scarf tight in order to hide the high neck of her costume. She had donned a long, baggy skirt patterned with bright squares of color to hide her kimono and the long trench coat hid the top portion from view. Only her combat boots were visible, but they looked like an _avant-garde_ fashion statement instead of the mark of a teenage vigilante when combined with the skirt, scarf, and trench coat.

“Shouldn’t we stop by the car?” Artemis asked. A thick parka hid her top costume from view, and the bottom was concealed by baggy sweat pants. Jade looked like a hipster; her sister, like a fashion disaster. At least they blended in well with the inhabitants of Crime Alley. However, Jade still carried her sais, and Artemis had her bow. Not to mention the stolen police property hidden under Jade’s jacket.

“Fine,” Jade said. “I left the car over on Parkway. If we take a left here, we should see it—” She found herself cut off by a strangling sound that left her throat.

Three wheels were missing off the battered Ford, and a small boy with dark hair was in the process of removing the final tire.

This is what they get for parking in Crime Alley.

The two sisters’ eyes met, and they nodded slowly in unison.

Jade slipped behind the boy silently. “You do realize I will need those, right?” Her voice was _sotto_ , and had just enough deadly intent in it to cause an adrenaline spike in any sensible person.

The dark haired boy spun around, dropping his tool to the ground with a loud _clang_. He was skinny in an underfed manner, with green eyes that looked too big to belong on his dirty face. He wore clothes that were overly large and baggy, with an impressive bruise on his jaw that couldn’t be more than a day old. He tried to bolt, but Jade’s arm snaked out, gripping the boy before he could escape into the safety of the back alley network of Gotham. “Sorry, I’ll need to know where you put the others first.” Her eyes were hard and flinty, even though her smile was seemingly sweet. But it had just a little too much teeth to be a friendly smile, and the kid’s expression showed just how effectively terrifying it was. Jade was rather proud of his reaction—she had been practicing in front of the mirror for the past few months in order to perfect that expression.

“I didn’t do anything!” The kid protested, squirming in her grip, his eyes wide and his skin blanched. “It was that way when I found it!”

“I’m sure it was,” Jade said, pulling him back closer towards her. “Which is why I won’t call the police if you can tell me where the person who _did_ stashed my tires.” Her voice had a poisonously sweet tone to it, warning the boy of danger that may lie ahead.

“I don't know!” The boy said, twisting out of Jade’s grip, causing Jade to blink in surprise before dashing down the nearest alleyway. “Gah!” He nearly fell over as Artemis materialized in front of him, grabbing him by the arm again, slightly more roughly than Jade had.

“I’ve got him,” Artemis announced, although she looked far too amused that the kid had managed to slip Jade. Jade was reluctantly impressed—not many people could give her the slip, even when she was wearing thin cotton gloves like she was now.  “Now, you going to show us, or are we going to have to call the police?” Her voice was friendlier than Jade’s, and her smile was more genuine and far less terrifying. Artemis was a very effective good cop.

The kid slumped in Artemis’s grip, sullen and sulking. “You won’t call if I show you?” He asked suspiciously, his eyes darting between the sisters.

“Not at all,” Jade said, dropping the creepy smile and looking serious. “Word of honor.”

The kid looked skeptical, but pointed into the alley in the opposite direction that he had tried to run. Jade felt her esteem of the kid rise a few notches—not many people his age (he couldn’t be more than eight or nine) could manage misdirection like that. She went over to check, where, sure enough, there were the three tires. Jade grinned.

“They’re here!” Jade called. “Let him go!”

The kid dashed past Jade, looking appropriately terrified for his life—he must have seen Artemis’s knife, if she knew her sister at all. Jade smirked, paying more attention to the tires than him.

Jade hauled the wheels over, just in time to see Artemis checking her pockets frantically. “No way…” Artemis whispered, disbelieving.

“He got your wallet?” Jade asked, bemused by the nerve of the street urchin—and if he wasn’t homeless, Jade would eat the tire she was carrying.

“Must have slipped it when I grabbed him!” Artemis glowered, clearly furious with herself for letting her guard down.

“That’s what you get for being careless, Sis,” Jade said, shaking her head and smirking just a little bit at her sister’s misfortune.

“Check yours,” Artemis said, crossing her arms and glaring.

“Like he would have been able to get me too—” Jade broke off, gaping, open mouthed, like a fish out of water.

“He totally did, didn’t he?”

“Oh, this kid is _good_ ,” Jade said, eyes wide.

“Can we keep him?” Artemis asked.

“We’ll see,” Jade said. “You track him down, I’ll fix these tires.” She eyed them with a look of distaste.

“I can’t believe a kid started to jack our tires, in the middle of a public street, and no one said anything.”

“It’s _Gotham_ ,” Jade said, rolling her eyes. “Now shoo.”

* * *

For Artemis, who made a habit of chasing down professional assassins, it wasn’t very hard to track down one scrawny kid, even in the maze of the alleys of Gotham City. She went high, using the rooftops and the fire escapes, and followed the boy with silent footsteps and curiosity alight in her eyes.

Normally, she and Jade might have just let a pickpocketing go. But something about the boy fascinated Artemis—she couldn’t put a name to it. She was curious, and so was Jade, even if she knew her sister would never admit to it.

The boy was underfed, with too-thin cheeks and sticks for arms. His hair was a black, wavy mess, in need of a trim or styling gel. His shirt was too small, his jeans were too large, and his shoes had holes in the soles. Artemis tried to tamp down on the rising sympathy for the kid. There were loads of kids in worse situations than his all over the world—hell, she’d helped rescue some in the past. But there was nothing she could do for this kid. He was doing well enough for himself.

Maybe if she said it enough she’d even believe it.

The kid didn’t notice her—a sign that even distracted, she was good enough to avoid detection. He slipped into an apartment building through the fire escape window after shaking the pane a few times. He closed it behind him, and Artemis ducked low to avoid being seen. She reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out a tracking device, pressing down on the button in the center, beginning the transmission of the location to Jade.

Her phone vibrated in her coat pocket. She pulled it out, and tried her best to navigate the small buttons with gloved fingers.

 _Received_. _Be there soon_. The text read. Artemis grinned, and settled down.

Jade arrived soon enough, having ditched her skirt for jeans and clearly having disposed of the rest of her costume as well. She was still armed, though—Sais were tucked into her coat pockets and knives strapped to her shins, hidden by the knee-high boots she now wore.

“Let’s head in,” Jade said, her voice a soft purr.

Breaking and entering an apartment in Crime Alley was a piece of cake, especially taking into account their track record. They opted for the same window the kid had snuck through.

The apartment was one bedroom, one bathroom, and a kitchen/living room combination. The window lead into the kitchen/living room, which consisted of a battered table and two chairs, an old stove, a fridge with a child’s drawings stuck on with colorful magnets, and an old sofa with the stuffing coming out in places. There was no sign of the kid, or even their wallets. Jade took the lead, slipping through the small hallway towards the bathroom and bedroom with a catlike grace. Artemis followed behind her, a hand on the knife hidden in her jacket. Artemis was not a silent as her sister, and her gait was less assured, less smooth. Artemis was good, but Jade had taken to their mother’s style of combat and skills like a fish to water—Artemis couldn’t imagine a single person who could see Jade coming unless Jade wanted her presence known. And she wanted the kid to have the surprise of his life.

Jade and Artemis paused outside the closed bedroom door. It was a battered, thin plywood piece, with a door knob hanging on by a thread. Jade held out a hand, and counted down on her fingers.

Normally, Jade would have kicked the door down, possibly splitting it down the middle beneath the force of her foot. But, despite all the trouble they were going to, it was just a kid. Jade grabbed the knob and pulled it open, revealing a small bedroom that was mostly taken up by the large mattress on the floor.

The kid sat in the middle of it, a tattered paperback copy of _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ dangling from his fingers as his head whipped up to see the two girls breaking into his room. His green eyes went wide and he scrambled to his feet, only to get tangled in the loose sheets and to fall flat on his face.

“Should have made your bed, kid,” Jade said, squatting down to look him in the eye. He scooted away from her as best as he could, lying on his stomach.

“What do you want?” The kid was trying for bravado, but he was clearly unnerved by their presence. Artemis tried to squash down her sympathy, but it remained. He was just a kid, and they took on assassins on a regular basis. It was hardly a fair match. It wasn’t even the kid’s fault, probably. He’d just picked the wrong car to screw with.

“Just want the wallets back, kid,” Jade said, face stone-like. There was no sympathy there for the kid to find. _Bad cop_ , Artemis thought to herself, suppressing a smile.

“You tracked me down for _ten bucks_?” The kid stared at them, shock overcoming his fear.

“We don’t care about the cash,” Jade snapped. “Keep it, we don’t care.” In Jade’s wallet was Talia’s card, their emergency line in case everything went wrong. Artemis kept a photo of their family in hers, carefully folded and placed into one of the slots for credit cards. They didn’t have many photos, and they certainly didn’t have another lifeline to Talia al Ghul and her promise of safety. “We just want the wallets back.”

“… you’re both weird,” the kid muttered, pushing himself up, like he was doing a pushup. He then rolled to the side, reaching down into the space between the mattress and the floor, and pulled out their wallets. Jade passed them to Artemis without even looking at her.

“Where are you parents?” Jade asked, almost lazily. Now that she had what they had come for she was relaxed. She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. The cruel, hard look was gone from her face, replaced by idle curiosity. Artemis flipped open her wallet, making sure the boy hadn’t taken anything other than the money. She tucked them into her jacket, satisfied, after a brief examination.

“Gone,” the boy’s face was hard, as if determined not to show any weakness.

“Define ‘gone’,” Jade said flatly, although something had changed in her face that Artemis could not place. It was… soft. Familiarly soft, even if Artemis hadn’t seen it in a long time. Jade had hardened herself, after Mom. She’d sharpened her edges to fine, dangerous points, she’d hidden any kindness, any part of her that was not focused on the Mission. Justice for Mom was all that mattered to Jade, ever since they’d left Talia’s car and left behind a small grave, to remain unvisited. Artemis was surprised, and delighted, to see it again, to learn that there was still some softness to Jade’s new, brittle shell.

“Dead,” the kid said harshly, spitting out the word as if it was a curse—it might as well be, Artemis supposed. Something shifted in Jade’s posture, but Artemis couldn’t place it.

“What’s your name?” Artemis spoke up, finally, casting her eye around the room. The boy had tried to liven up the room with newspaper clippings and old posters. They disguised the poor condition of the walls—the old, green and brown striped wallpaper was peeling away in some places, stained and moldy in others.

“Jason Todd,” the kid said, scowling. “Can you wrap up Twenty Questions and leave me alone?”

Jade’s lips twisted into a frown. “When was the last time you ate a decent meal?” She demanded, her eyes taking in everything.

“None of your goddamn business!” Jason snapped, glowering at them.

Jade’s eyebrow went up. “I was going to offer you food, but if you don’t want it…” she trailed off, leaving the offer tantalizingly in the air. Artemis imagined she could hear Jason’s stomach growl.

“What do you want?” Jason demanded, suspicious—and rightly so. Artemis was surprised herself.

Suddenly, she realized. Jade _liked_ this kid. She liked his guts, his scowling, his attitude; she was _enjoying_ herself for the first time in ages. Jason Todd had no home, no parents, and needed a couple dozen square meals and a better roof over his head. Jade Nguyen needed something to look after; Artemis, despite all her effort, was not filling that role any more. They’d both changed too fast, and there was an empty role that Artemis had left behind as she’d grown up.

And just like that, Artemis decided. They were going to keep this kid. Jade might not have realized it yet, but it was the truth. Jason Todd was going to join their small little family tucked into the back of a stolen car, and he was going to be sucked into their wild adventure of a life.

Jade must have seen something change on her face, though, because she rounded on Artemis as if she’d seen her draw a knife. “No.” She said firmly, and Artemis saw that her plan had, _somehow_ , been detected. That was the problem with knowing each other so well. They tended to be able to predict the other’s train of thought.

“Aw, c’mon Jade!” She said, spreading her arms wide. “He’s got nowhere to go!”

“I am _fine_ here!” The kid called, clearly baffled by what was unfolding before him. His eyes darted between Jade and Artemis, trying (unsuccessfully) to translate Nguyen into a language he could understand.

“We can’t just adopt every stray child who you take a liking to!” Jade said, eyes narrowing. Artemis resisted the urge to point out that Jade liked the kid as well. No need to put her sister on the defensive.

“What?” Jason squawked, voice rising. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Artemis restrained a giggle at the way his high pitched voice screeched the cuss word.

“He stole our wallets!” Artemis said. “He’s _good_! He’s not just a normal kid, he’s got potential!”

“We are _not_ involving more people in our lives. It’s _dangerous_.”

“I can look after myself!” Jason called, although it looked like he was enjoying the argument.

They continued to ignore the street urchin. “So we don’t involve him in that part. C’mon, you know what the Gotham Foster Care System is like!”

“I _ain’t_ going there!” Jason said, his scowl deepening.

“And it’s not much better on the streets!” Artemis continued.

“Do either of you care what I think about this?” Jason asked, more curious than anything else. “I don’t even know you people.”

“We’re assassin hunters,” Artemis told him.

“ _Whoa_ ,” Jason looked awed, despite himself.

“We’re also wanted criminals,” Jade pointed out. “And we can’t be in town long.”

“Why? Batman gonna come after you?” Jason asked, half sarcastic, half curious.

“Yes,” Jade said bluntly, humor glinting in her eyes.

Jason’s eyes went as big as saucers, his expression becoming something close to adoration. “ _Really?_ ”

“Sadly,” Jade muttered, but her lips were quirking up in a small, barely perceptible smile.

“Come get food with us and we’ll tell you all about it,” Artemis wheedled.

“What kind of food?” Jason asked, crossing his arms again, but Artemis saw that she had succeeded. Jason and Jade were both hooked, and Artemis grinned. Her family was about to expand just a little more.

* * *

After burgers and milkshakes, Artemis took Jason home to pick up what few things he had that he wanted to bring with him. Jade went back to their old apartment, and made arrangements to meet them by the car.

She went over the rooftops, not wanting to have to deal with streets at the moment. It was night, so no one would notice a dark figure on the roofs; and if they did, they would think it was Batman. Jade ran, low and fast, feeling the rush of the wind against her face. Her coat flapped out behind her like a cape, and she grinned, enjoying the feel of it all. She leapt over the gap, and landed in a somersault, neatly tucking herself into a ball and out again in a single fluid motion.

“Nice!” An unfamiliar voice chirped from beside her as she straightened up. She froze, turning her head slowly. A boy in a colorful costume was perched on a chimney, grinning widely at her. “That was a _great_ landing, I’m still working on doing that without a cable,” he told her, leaping down. His cape flapped open, and Jade knew she was dealing with Robin the Boy Wonder. Speedy had told her about him, after he had found her phone number tucked in his pocket after their meeting in Star City. He liked Robin; but his messages had not prepared her for how _young_ he was—he couldn’t be much older than Jason. His grin was exuberant as he approached her. She wondered if he knew who she was, or if Batman had withheld that information. “What’s your name?” He asked, looking up at her.

“I’m Cheshire,” she said, wishing for her mask and robe. “I’m just passing through.”

“Cool!” Robin said, grinning. “Where you from?”

“Here, but I left ages ago,” Jade said, angling her head slightly to one side, keeping an eye out for Robin’s partner.

“I think Speedy mentioned you,” Robin said, practically bouncing in one place on the balls of his feet. He practically radiated energy, just like Artemis did on a good day.

“He might have,” Jade grinned, despite herself. His smile was infectious. “You talk to him often?”

“A bit!” Robin grinned, rocking back on his heels and falling into a backflip. “He said you’re really cool.”

“He’s sweet,” she said, smiling to herself. “I do need to go though. My mom’s waiting for me.” A bluff, one that could easily be called if Batman had filled his partner in on Cheshire and Artemis.

“’kay!” Robin said instead, proving that she had been right to bank on Batman’s secrecy. She dashed away, even faster than before, hoping she could get enough of a head start to get to the car.

She scrambled into her apartment, throwing all the bags together as quickly as she could. She then paused, remembering something her mother had told her.

_“Jade,” Paula’s voice was calm, but there was something **off** in the way she spoke. Her hands trembled. “If something should happen to me,” she closed her eyes. “If something goes **wrong**. Go back home to Gotham. Under the floorboards in your closet I hid something. A name.”_

_“Whose name?” Jade asked, looking at her mother, confused and worried. She hated it when her mother talked like this, mentioning death and the possibilities of a future without her. She refused to listen whenever she could, but she couldn’t escape now, with her mother’s hands in her hair, braiding them in the familiar manner._

_“Batman’s real name,” Paula said softly. “No one knows I have this, understand? No one. It’s for last resort, and last resort **only**. He’ll leave you alone once you tell him you know his name; he won’t risk his secret being exposed.”_

_“You know who Batman is?” Jade asked, surprised._

_“Yes,” Paula said softly, and refused to say anything more on the subject_.

Jade scrambled for the closet, tugging up the floorboards. _Please still be there_ , she thought desperately, listening for the screech of the Batmobile’s tires.

 _There!_ A thin, folded piece of notebook paper, lying in the dust beneath the floorboards. She unfolded it, read the name, and froze in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally have Jason! And Dick makes an appearance! =] The story of how Jade and Artemis met Speedy is it's own separate story, and will be posted soon! Keep your eyes peeled!


	6. Questions and Answers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade begins her search for answers about her mother's life.

Jade drove all night, her fingers bone-white against the steering wheel as Jason and Artemis chatted cheerfully in the backseat.

How had her mother known Batman’s identity? Had she known Bruce Wayne? A part of Jade wanted to turn around and demand answers from the caped crusader, but she fought those instincts and kept driving, the odometer slowly clicking forward.

“Where will we go next?” Artemis asked after a while.

“Star City,” Jade replied. “We can figure out our next move there.”

“And read the file?” Artemis asked, leaning against the window, staring out at the passing lights with drooping eyes.

“Yeah,” Jade said, thinking about the Huntress file still pressed against her chest. “Then we’ll get our answers.”

She hoped.

* * *

“Here again, Bruce?” Clark asked from behind him. Bruce didn’t flinch or even acknowledge his best friend’s presence. He just stared at the gravestone, and the flowers he’d placed on the site. The girls hadn’t been here in a while—probably were afraid to, suspecting that he’d be keeping an eye on the grave. He felt slightly guilty, denying the girls that. He had often gone to his parent’s graves for comfort.

But he had been safe with Alfred, at least. Once he was sure they were safe, then they could visit without fearing him. Once he could _explain_ …

“Yes,” he said quietly. The night was calm and peaceful, but he couldn’t remain long. He needed to get back to Gotham—Dick would be waiting for him back in the Cave, and even Alfred was starting to wonder about his visits.

“Who was she?” Clark asked, standing beside him now. He was wearing a regular suit and tie, even though Bruce knew that only a moment ago he had been wearing the Superman suit and floating. A briefcase rested at his feet, and although his tone was mild, Bruce could feel the reporter curiosity radiating from him.

“Paula,” Bruce paused, trying to think of a way to explain. “She saved my life. She was my friend. And I left her in a bad situation.”

“When was this?” Clark raised his eyebrows.

“A long, long time ago,” Bruce said wearily, feeling very old.

* * *

Jade stopped at an abandoned campsite for the night, three greasy McDonald’s bags bursting with their dinner. Artemis started a campfire, while Jade helped Jason learn to pitch a tent properly. Jason was a city kid to his bones—Jade wondered how long it would be before he started to regret tagging along with them. She couldn’t help but smile when she thought about how the kid would react to their nomadic lifestyle.

They all ate in silence, contemplating the lack of ketchup packs and the overwhelming taste of mustard on the burgers. Jade then shooed them both into the tent, claiming her intent to keep watch for a while.

She sat by the crackling fire, slowly feeding in sticks and leaves from the surrounding area.

What was she even doing? She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them, resting her cheek against her knees. She was just a kid—she couldn’t be responsible for two others. She couldn’t track down a Shadow skilled enough to kill her own mother. She couldn’t run from Batman forever, and she wasn’t even entirely sure _why_ she was running anymore.

Running from city to city, never stopping, never resting, always hiding, always running, hunting for something that couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be touched. Living on her own, wearing clothes until they fell to pieces, scavenging food whenever she could, for fear of touching Mom’s accounts too often.

Always afraid, afraid of Batman, afraid of the Shadows, afraid of her father, afraid of failing. Afraid of whatever had killed Mom, for a reason that Jade didn’t even quite _understand_. She didn’t know _why_ they ran—why had they needed to, when Mom had held Batman’s identity under her floorboards all this time? Why did the Shadows want them so badly? Why wouldn’t they just leave them _alone_ , now that Mom was dead and buried?

Jade was tired. It would be so easy, she thought, for a dizzy moment, to just… leave. Leave Artemis and Jason. Just walk away. It could all be over and fine. She could be free.

A wave of nausea washed over her the second that thought was done. She was awful. How could she even _think_ of abandoning her family? She was as bad as Dad—she was a monster, willing to hurt the people she cared about just so she could have it easy.

She closed her eyes tightly, and missed her mom, ignoring the dampness of her cheeks and the way her shoulders seemed to move in small jerks.

Slowly, she unfolded herself, still moving slowly. In her pocket rested her mother’s last gift to her—Bruce Wayne’s name, written in the shaky slopes of Paula’s handwriting. Pressed to her chest was the record of her mother’s life. Jade slowly, carefully, pulled out the file, glancing at the tent, sealed shut, with Artemis snoring softly inside.

She traced the paper with her fingers. A part of her wanted to throw the file into the fire without even looking at it—let it crumple to ashes and cinders, let it blow away in the wind, lost forever. Her mother was dead, let her secrets go with her.

But it might have answers.

Jade had never really realized how little she knew about her mother. She knew she was Vietnamese from the language that would spill from her lips when tired or angry, words that she had taught Artemis and Jade, alongside Spanish and French and Portuguese. She knew that she had loved Lawrence Crock once upon a time, and maybe been loved by him, from the way that her mother would fiddle with the gold ring she had worn on a thin cord around her neck that she would fiddle with whenever she got quiet. She knew that Paula Nguyen had been a Shadow, and that the name Huntress had been given to her, not chosen. She knew her mother’s birthday, that she had been friends with Talia al Ghul, but had few others, even among the Shadows.

But beyond that, she knew nothing. The woman who had raised her, who had braided Jade’s hair with ribbons and beads, who had fought with tiger hook swords, who had read to her daughters every night until Jade was eight, was an enigma. And she would never tell Jade the truth. Jade would have to learn it for herself.

“Down the rabbit hole, then,” Jade whispered into the night, and flipped open the file.

* * *

**_9 January 1988_ **

**_Location: CLASSIFIED_ **

_“Who are you?” Paula demanded, looking at the scrawny white boy who perched on the bunk next to hers, holding a pack of ice to his bruising chin. He was older than her, with dark hair and bright blue eyes, and he held himself with a confident swagger that made Paula want to give him more bruises to match the one already decorating his handsome face._

_“Who are you?” He responded in English, arrogantly lifting his chin slightly. “I didn’t realize this was an elementary school.”_

_“Don’t speak in English, white boy,” she snapped in French, her face flushing. “No one here speaks it.”_

_“Cain does,” he mocked, switching to French with a polished accent that made Paula want to punch him even more. Her own French was rough and garbled—her accent Vietnamese and her vocabulary simple. She would have spoken in Vietnamese, but very few people spoke that here. French was the best way to communicate with people in the Shadows._

_“Why would Cain have anything to do with a spoiled boy like you?” Paula demanded, squinting. The boy was pampered—his face was well rounded and his shoulders were broad. He had never known hunger, or physical pain. He had never had his ribs stomped in or been locked in rooms for weeks without food._

_“Because I’m good,” he said, tilting his head, smirking at her. Paula wanted to grind her heel into his face, but she could not afford to get into fights with the students without the permission of their masters. They all ranked higher than her, even if she was a better fighter than most of them, and the punishment was harsh._

_“Whatever, rich boy,” she spat, crawling into her bunk and gripping the handle of the knife she kept under her pillow in case he approached._

_“…Thomas,” he offered, after a long silence._

_“What?”_

_“My name. Thomas… Thomas Pennyworth.”_

_That was a fake name if Paula had ever heard one. “Paula,” she said shortly, before rolling over and falling asleep, one hand still on her knife._

* * *

Present Day (3 August 2007)

Bruce opened the window with practiced ease. He slipped through with silent movements, entering the penthouse suite that Talia al Ghul was staying at.

“Beloved,” Talia was waiting for him, sitting at her desk, surrounded by paperwork that she used to control the fates of regimes and nations. She was wearing a dark, elegant suit, with the jacket hanging open, revealing a white silk blouse. Familiar sapphire earrings—ones he had given her, a lifetime ago—hung from her ears, her only jewelry.

“Talia,” he replied, removing his mask.

She finished whatever she was working on, before capping her pen and setting it down on the desk. “I expected you sooner, I must admit,” she said. “Did it really take you so long to track me down, after Paula’s passing?”

“I was looking for her killer first.” Talia inclined her head to acknowledge him. “And I assumed you had the girls, after your exit from the Metropolis Police Station.”

Talia’s face twisted. She got to her feet, brushing out the wrinkles of her suit as she stood. Her high heels had been kicked off, now resting beneath the desk. “They… would not stay. They demanded vengeance.”

“And you wouldn’t give it to them.”

Talia’s chin went out, her mouth a thin, stubborn line. “Paula knew the price she would pay. It was inevitable. I tried to help her delay it…”

“But she had betrayed Ra’s, the Shadows,” Bruce said, softly, understanding. “So she would have to die, eventually.”

“She chose to die raising her daughters, rather than die in a prison, separated from them.” Talia said. “She knew being captured would not protect her, or her children.”

“I would have protected her!” Bruce said, wounded.

“Would you?” Talia said, raising an eyebrow. “You had not seen her in decades, Bruce. You had both changed. And given how and when you left, she had every reason to doubt you.”

Bruce flinched as if struck, but he remained firm. “I would have.”

“Maybe,” she said, relenting. She sat down again, opening a drawer in her desk with the swipe of a fingerprint. “How is Richard?”

“He’s… excellent. He’s finding closure. He won’t be like me. Like us.”

Talia looked at him, her well-manicured nails resting an inch above her target. “Would that truly be so bad?”

“No one should have to grow up like we did, Talia,” he said.

“I would rather a child grow up like we did than like Paula did,” Talia said.

“Is that why you let them go?” Bruce demanded. “They’re _alone_.”

“Not anymore, if that report about that boy I saw is accurate,” she said softly.

“They’re in danger,” Bruce insisted.

“They’re well-equipped to handle it,” Talia said sharply. “They have skill, Bruce. They’re _good_. Paula taught them well.” Her fingers wrapped around the envelope. She extended it towards him. “Here,” she said, her voice softening.

It was an ordinary white envelope, with his name in unfamiliar handwriting scribbled across the back.

“She gave this to me. In case of her death.” Talia closed her drawer firmly as he took the envelope. “There was one for me too.” She swallowed, her eyes over bright.

“You miss her,” Bruce said, looking at her.

“She was my best friend, Bruce. Of course I do.” She took a step towards him.

He removed his gloves, reaching up to cradle her face in his hands.

“You should read that,” Talia said, gesturing to the envelope in his other hand.

He set it down, and whispered, “Later.” He leaned in, and kissed her.

* * *

_Elsewhere_

Jade _ran_.

The branches whipped at her face, scratching and biting at her skin, but she just kept running, blindly tearing through the forest as if she was being chased.

Her mouth tasted of bile and her face was wet. The file, the horrible, wretched file was once again tucked into the pocket of her kimono, even though all she had wanted to do was rip it into a thousand pieces and scatter it into the winds.

But then Artemis might read it.

Her feet caught on the root of a tree, and she sprawled, barely having the time to twist herself so that she fell the way that her mother had taught her. She landed among the pine needles and the twigs and curled up onto her side with a sob.

The pictures in the file blazed beneath her eyes—pictures of her mother’s kills.

Jade had known, empirically, that her mother was a killer. Her mother had been a Shadow, and Jade had known what that meant. It meant that Mom had been on missions on those nights when Jade and Artemis had been left home alone without even a sitter, with knives in their hands and mugs of hot chocolate. It meant that Mom’s hands had probably been coated in blood before she returned home to them, hugging them close and kissing them good night. It meant that Mom had slit the throats of an entire roomful of businessmen, leaving their bodies for the janitor to find—twenty four corpses, in a single night.

Jade threw up, remembering those corpses, barely remembering to roll to her hands and knees to do so. She panted, tears still rolling down her face, as she thought about the men and women who her mother had _murdered_ , of the children she had orphaned, just like the Assassin had done for Mom. How many of those children had demanded vengeance, as she and Artemis had? How many of them would be happy, knowing that Jade’s mother was buried beneath six feet of earth and grass?

Jade remembered her mother, her strong hands and tinkling laughter, and tried to compare it to the pictures of the horrors her mother had created in the name of Ra’s al Ghul, and couldn’t do it. How could someone be as _good_ as her mother had been—giving money to the children on the streets of Rio, scolding Artemis for stealing unnecessarily, a loving and adoring mother—and do things like that?

Who had Paula Nguyen _been_ , that she could live with that dichotomy?

* * *

Jade eventually recovered enough to return to the tent.

Jason Todd was waiting for her by the fire, his legs crossed, poking the dying embers with a stick.

“You look like shit,” he told her, looking up at her.

Jade knew she did. She could feel the twigs in her hair, the dried resin on her skin. Her face was probably ghostlike after her vomiting, and her skin was covered in small scrapes.

“Thanks,” she said wryly, sitting down next to him. Jason didn’t look at her as he stirred the ashes, his face thrown into odd shadows in the flickering light.

Jade wondered if she should ask why he was awake—but then again, he had slept during the car ride, unlike her, so she didn’t have much room to talk.

“You wanna talk about it?” Jason asked her, squinting. “I could, uh hear you.”

Jade flushed, not having realized she’d still been close enough to hear.

“I just…” Jade floundered, not wanting to lie, but unsure if she could bring herself to admit the full truth. “I miss my mom, that’s all.”

“So why do you have to hide it?” Jason asked, clearly confused. His brow was scrunched up, an adorable furrow between his eyebrows. “Artemis misses her too, doesn’t she?”

Jade pulled her legs up to her chest, hitching her chin over her knees. “What do you know about our mom?” She asked softly, looking at Jason. “I know you’ve told us about yours, but what’s Artemis told you?”

Jason shrugged. “She was a Shadow, right? That’s, uh, an assassin or a spy or something? Like in the movies, right?”

“She was an assassin,” Jade confirmed, although her throat was tight. “I just… I just learned her kill count.”

“Was it high?” Jason asked practically, finally setting down his stick.

“Higher than I expected,” she said softly. “It’s just… she was my _mom_ , right? And she wasn’t a bad mom either. Not like Dad. And then she did those things. And I… I can’t make _sense_ of it?”

Jason shrugged. “Someone can be bad person but a good mom,” he offered. “Or a good person but a bad mom. Or a complicated person and a good mom. I mean, it’s always complicated, right? Shades of grey and all that.” He snapped his stirring stick in half and threw one chunk on the fire. “Like my dad, right? He worked for Two Face. Total asshat. He did some shit. But he wasn’t a bad dad. And my mom did drugs, so she wasn’t exactly the best mom, always, but she tried. Parents are just people, y’know? They fuck up. A lot. But they’re usually trying.” He shrugged and threw the other half onto the fire. “I mean, don’t put her on a pedestal or shit, but you don’t have to hate her either.”

Jade laughed, suddenly, tilting her head back and just letting the tension ease out of her chest, closing her eyes. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?” She told Jason.

“Not my fault you’re dumb enough to think that your mom didn’t kill people when she was an _assassin_ ,” Jason pointed out. “And you still look like shit.” He smirked.

“You’re a shit,” Jade said, making a grab for Jason, sticking him under her arm and ruffling his hair. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”

* * *

**_21 January 1988_ **

**_Location: CLASSIFIED_ **

_Paula was a potential. She hadn’t been picked by any of the masters (yet) as a student, despite her inherent skill. She could beat almost every student in hand to hand, was skilled with her swords, and was young, respectful, and obedient. Many masters made use of her—throwing her at their own students as a form of instructive punishment, giving Paula small rewards if she left them sufficiently dented and humiliated. But she had not yet been chosen, and it grated. She was younger than most students, true, but she wouldn’t be the youngest to have been chosen._

_Instead of working with a single teacher, like the students, she trained with the rest of the potentials, cooked and cleaned, and slept in the common bunks. She tried to teach herself English and Spanish, and did whatever else she was told to do, in hopes of being remembered as a good possible student by one of the masters._

_“Girl!” Cain shouted, and Paula wanted to run. Cain, unlike most masters, never took students out of the potential pool. His students were of all ages, coming from anywhere he could find them—although Paula had noticed that his students were slowly becoming younger as the years wore on. Pennyworth was the oldest student Cain had taken in Paula’s memory._

_“Yes?” She said, clasping her hands behind her back._

_He grinned at her, an expression too toothy to be called a genuine smile. He gestured over his shoulder, to where Thomas Pennyworth stood, looking bored, his hands in his pockets._

_“The boy needs to understand his skill level,” he told her in Vietnamese. He was one of the few that spoke it on the base, even though he spoke with a polished accent that Paula had never heard anyone in Vietnam actually use. Paula tilted her head, curious, so he added. “He thinks only I can beat him. Show him.” His grin was savage, all shiny white teeth that were remarkably pristine for a fighter of his caliber. His eyes didn’t reflect the smile—they were icy blue and cold, calculating and ruthless. Paula felt a sudden stab of gratitude that Cain had never chosen her, and a similar stab of sympathy for Pennyworth, which she dismissed. The white boy had, according to rumor, **chosen** to become Cain’s apprentice. _

_Paula nodded, not permitting any of her thoughts to show on her face. “Here?” She asked, also in Vietnamese, eying Pennyworth with an interested and calculating eye. He wasn’t paying attention to her, but the others in the corridor were. Most of them knew what was coming, unlike Pennyworth, who was still new enough that he had never seen one of the Masters throw a potential at the students._

_“Yes,” he said, stepping aside._

_Paula launched herself at the boy as soon as Cain had given her permission, slamming him to the ground with a flying kick that he didn’t even see coming. Pennyworth fell without dignity or control, letting out a yelp as he hit the floor in a collision of limbs and concrete. He stared at her, shocked, his eyes flickering to Cain, before returning to her, his eyes narrowing in focus. He tried to grab her foot and twist her off-balance, but she leapt off him gracefully, landing six feet away in a crouch, permitting him to have time to collect himself._

_He got up and leapt at her—surprisingly graceful for his large size. He moved fast as well as powerfully, but he was still only used to fighting big burly men, not small, agile people like herself. That was a gap in his training that Cain would probably address soon, but for now it was a huge vulnerability that she was free to exploit. She danced around him, lashing out occasionally with a punch or a kick, decorating him with bruises wherever she made contact with his pale skin while he thrashed around, trying to grab her and failing. Finally he managed to land a punch on her ribs, sending her flying back—he was strong, and he hit well, with focus and power. Paula controlled her fall, and swept his feet from under him when he tried to follow through his punch, and then flipped up to her feet, ready to begin again._

_“Enough!” A loud, sharp voice cut through, interrupting Paula mid-motion, her fingers inches from Pennyworth’s throat. Pennyworth was similarly frozen, although not out of obedience, but surprise and curiosity._

_Talia al Ghul stood there, arms crossed. She was dressed in an American style—jeans and a t-shirt with a slogan written in English that Paula couldn’t read, but there was no mistaking the daughter of the Master. Paula quickly pulled out of her fighting stance and bowed low, stomping on Pennyworth’s foot to remind him to do the same. She might still want to shatter his nose, but she didn’t want him killed for not showing respect._

_“Not in the hallways, Cain,” the Lady al Ghul said in perfect, elegant French, but her eyes lingered on Pennyworth and Paula with an intensity that made Paula’s skin crawl. “Keep it to the practice courts.” Even when wearing her casual clothes, Talia had an air of power and command wrapped around her. She demanded obedience, and even Cain had to follow her orders, as much as he always seemed to dislike it._

_Cain nodded, his face carefully blank, making a quick motion to Pennyworth, indicating that he should follow. Pennyworth instantly did so, not even sparing a glance for Paula. Paula narrowed her eyes at Pennyworth’s retreating back, wondering if Cain would give her another chance to break the rich-boy’s face._

_Paula hovered awkwardly, unsure if she was dismissed or not._

_“You, girl!” Talia al Ghul was beautiful, with a fine featured face and dark amber eyes. Paula shifted uncomfortably—she was sixteen, hardly a child. But she felt like it, under the intense stare of Talia._

_“Yes my lady?” Paula asked, bowing low._

_“You’re the Nguyen girl, correct?” Talia asked._

_“Yes, my lady,” Paula said, slightly confused and excited about how Talia al Ghul knew her name._

_The lady looked at Paula, and Paula shifted, experiencing for the first time the feeling that someone knew everything about her from a single glance._

_Lady al Ghul smiled suddenly, as if she had seen what she had been searching for. “Please,” she said. “Call me Talia.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so hopefully this is the beginning of a series of updates, since this story has returned to me with a whole new dose of inspiration. Sorry it's been so long, but I really lost steam on this story when I misplaced the notebook containing a great deal of material. However, I found it again along with my muse, so let's see if I can keep this up! 
> 
> Paula's story will be continued over the course of the fic, revealed in bits and pieces as we go. Also expect a new Hunters-verse side-story soon, featuring how Roy and GA first met Jade and Artemis! 
> 
> Next chapter: Jason's training, Jade spends some time with Roy, and Artemis gets a mysterious new friend.


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